


Masks

by booksindalibrary



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Gen, One Shot, Post-Canon, father-son interaction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 01:03:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13513494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksindalibrary/pseuds/booksindalibrary
Summary: Gakushuu puts on a mask, just like his father.





	Masks

Gakushuu left home at the age of eighteen, having graduated as one of the top students. Yes, Karma was a wrench in the works, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Gakushuu never contacted his father for the first semester of university. Why would he? He didn't need that man in his life any more. But naturally, fate had more to say about that. After all, he was their favourite toy.

His mother fell ill, and Gakushuu was forced to return home, lest he seem the ungrateful son, as his father mockingly pointed out. Annoyed but knowing there was truth in his words, he booked a ticket to see his mother.

Gakushuu had no idea what to bring a woman in the hospital, so he bought flowers - none too flashy, and fake ones, because he knew his mother oh so very well - and the snacks he knew she liked. He wore his usual clothing, because he saw no need to dress up - or dress down, for that matter.

Gakushuu walked down the hallway, shoes clicking on the tiled floor. He tried not to breathe in too deeply. No unwanted sickness for him, thanks anyway.

"Gakushuu," and he tried not to gag at the sound of his father's voice.

"Father," Gakushuu said coldly, not looking directly at him.

Gakuho looked expressionless, and for once Gakushuu wanted to know how this man felt. His wife was in the hospital, probably alone. Did he feel sad? Or maybe he just thought this was all a chore. The latter was probably more likely.

"I assume those are for your mother," Gakuho said, eyeing the flowers.

"They're fake." Gakushuu couldn't disguise the defensive tone. The hospital wouldn't allow real ones, surely, and he didn't like the idea of his dear mother watching the flowers wilt and die. It sounded like a sick joke.

"You remembered your mother's favourite sort of flowers?" Gakuho sounded legitimately surprised.

"Of course," Gakushuu lied easily. Two could play the 'let's be normal' game and put on their masks of father and son. They'd been doing it for as long as Gakushuu could remember.

Gakuho nodded, sitting down in a nearby chair. Gakushuu wondered if he would be permitted to walk past. He waited just in case his father wanted to say something more.

(He was still being a good boy, Gakushuu thought in disgust.)

"Your mother's resting," Gakuho said unexpectedly.

"Then why did you call me here?" Gakushuu asked. This time he managed to keep his voice fairly neutral.

"Just in case," Gakuho said. _Just in case the worst happens,_ is what he meant. "You're on break. I don't see why you're making a fuss."

Gakushuu wasn't making a fuss, but he was annoyed his father was being so condescending. _That_ might cause a fuss.

A woman exited the room his mother was in, startling Gakushuu. Said woman smiled tiredly at Gakushuu. So entertaining was Gakuho's idea of 'resting'; somehow, Gakushuu didn't think that was ideal for a patient.

"Oh! You must be her son - Gakushuu, right? I've heard so much about you."

Either he had been talked up like he was a saint, or this woman was just really happy to meet the proverbial son. Her smile seemed a little too cheerful for the hospital setting.

"Hello, ma'am," Gakushuu said politely, bowing. Trying to give a hint, he looked at his father. “Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?” The woman took the hint and flitted away.

Gakuho eyed his son. “Have you been with a girl?”

Gakushuu froze, wondering if hell had frozen over. “W-what?”

“A girl,” Gakuho said patiently. “Unless you swing the other way-”

No, this was another dimension. One where Gakuho actually cared about that sort of thing beyond how frivolous he viewed it as, and saw Gakushuu as a son and not a student in his eternal classroom.

“I don't swing the other way,” Gakushuu blurted out. Well, maybe a little, but that wasn't the point. “Why're you asking?”

“Am I not allowed to have an interest in my son?”  
“You never did before.”

“You seemed to do just fine before.”

“And I'm still doing fine, so whatever's your goal here, I'm telling you nothing.”

“I know you drink.”

“I don't drink that often,” Gakushuu said, feeling himself being backed into a corner.

“But when you do, it's quite a bit.”

“I trained myself to withstand a large quantity of alcohol. I thought it would be handy.”

“I also hear you're managing the Five Virtuosos?”

“They can't do it themselves,” Gakushuu muttered. “I would have thought they learned to stop picking fights, but apparently they haven't yet.”

“Some challenge is good.” Gakuho's tone and posture never shifted.

“Is there a point to this?” Gakushuu made sure each word came out sharp.

“Am I not allowed an interest in my son? This conversation is becoming circular.”

Gakushuu clicked his tongue. “Is Mother alone now?” Like hell she was resting, Gakushuu thought darkly. A woman had just walked out of her room – that didn't seem like _resting._

“She is.” Gakuho graciously waved a hand to let him pass. “You may see her now.”

Gakushuu walked past him and entered his mother's private room. He had managed to duck his father's question for now, but no doubt Gakuho would pry some more. He sighed, smoothing over his expression to greet his mother.

 

**Author's Note:**

> idek what this was meant to be abt but yeah. here's this lmao


End file.
